


Carrie in Wonderland

by FrangipaniFlower



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fuck S5, No I don't plan a sequel, Smut, This is what should have happened, Undying Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8498401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrangipaniFlower/pseuds/FrangipaniFlower
Summary: A missing scene in Zefrangaure's Wonderland. Completely Carrie's POV about the sexy adventure in the woods.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For HML and Finly for being the first to notice Zefranaure is obviously Zefir, Frangi and Laure.
> 
> When we wrote our Halloween fic together it quickly became to long for Zeffy's prompt. In the process of writing one of my contributions was this scene. When editing we decided it didn't fit to the dream-like sequence of Jonas' POV as it reveals who the "king" is...not that you didn't figure, did you?
> 
> Unedited therefore not completely matching the Zefrangaure's fic.
> 
>  
> 
> Have fun. Carrie had.

Carrie climbed into the waiting car, an old Volkswagen Passat. A Sedan. Who drives a Passat as Sedan, Jonas thought. Strange people. CIA. Quinn. He knew that name. Carrie sometimes called for him at night, in her dreams. And twice she'd panted that name while they had been having sex. That whore. That damn CIA whore.

Quinn didn't talk as they rolled down the narrow path through the woods. The only words he’d spoken, right after she'd climbed into the car, had been “Down. I want you to get down. We’ve no idea if I was here fast enough.”

So Carrie doubled over, arms around her knees, head on her knees, thinking the back seat might be more suitable, but just then she thought for a fraction of a second she'd felt a hand ghosting over her exposed nape. Quinn’s hand. And she felt almost embarrassed by how much she wanted him to touch her. Again.

Less than 18 hours ago he stepped in her life again. Or maybe knocked. Knocked his gun end over Jonas’ head. Jonas was getting really weird. If she hadn't known it had been Jonas, lawyer Jonas with his fucking human rights attitude, she’d have thought he suddenly had been on a date rape agenda. Hands groping, tongue in her throat, trying to shove up her dress.

And then suddenly - nothing. Dropped like dead, knocked out cold.

Quinn. Older, much older than just two or three years. But still Quinn. She slapped him, hurt him, marked him and hugged him, all at the same time.

The relief to see him alive fathomless. The pain about what they’d missed thirty months ago a sudden sharp rupture. The shame where and in which situation he found her. Jonas. Fucking Jonas. A desperate shot at normalcy. Doomed from the very beginning. And now Quinn. She'd been his arms, stripped bare of any reluctance, within seconds. Jonas became a side note, lingering at a recess of her concious thinking, an annoyance, knocked out cold, having his mushroom trip.

Quinn’s mouth on hers, kissing her, consuming her, desperately, passionately, before he even told her why he was here.

Her dress had been up around her waist before she even had time enough to spell her name, let alone utter a conscious thought.

She'd missed him the longest time. Had looked for him, had places word with each and every station chef she knew, had called favours in literally every shithole of the world.

And here he was now. Back to her.

Yesterday, in the woods, he backed her up against a tree, while she fumbled his belt open, God, she wanted him so much, and his eyes, those eyes, they betrayed his measured movements, so much want, so much longing.

They fucked against that tree, her legs around his ass, Quinn thrusting into her, hard and fast, and she heard herself screaming, and Quinn’s ragged breathing just above her ear, he was panting and his arms were holding her while he fucked her and shattered all those carefully maintained boundaries and guards.

She came just before him, the release so immense that all she could do was collapse into his shoulder, crying the pain and the joy out, feeling him shooting into her.

God, thinking about it alone, just centimeters away from him, made her want him so much.

Then they brought Jonas to Otto’s house. Quinn carried him to his car and Jonas was transported in the trunk.

It was an awkward silence between them, now dressed again, Jonas just a few yards away. 

Hauled into one of the sleeping rooms and provided with a shot of propofol and ketamine Jonas was out for at least ten hours. 

Which left her and Quinn. Who was brusque, terse and guarded now. 

He gave her a brief report of what brought him here, legit intel someone was threatening her life, while they were having quickly heated canned soup. Much better than mushrooms.

Carrie couldn't help it, despite being scared and desperate she felt safe. Because Quinn was here. For her.

And if this was the one time when life threw another chance at her - she'd be damned not to use it. 

But it was night until she tried to raise the topic. Quinn was about to lay down on the couch.

“Quinn. The answer was a yes. I wanted to say yes. Why did you leave?”

“God. Carrie. You have no fucking idea…”

He came back to the table where she still sat lifted her and carried her to the bedroom.

They made love, exactly what those words meant, Carrie thought, making love, long hours, passing like minutes. Hands, mouths, tongues mapping and exploring, Quinn buried deep inside her, whispering her name as if it were the only word in the world.

She cried in his arms afterwards. All those years, lost. And now he was back and she knew he’d seen more than he’d ever be able to tell her. And now she was in danger. 

Which brought her back to the present. Why she was with him in that car.


End file.
